


Armin

by warriorofculture



Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27638543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warriorofculture/pseuds/warriorofculture
Summary: Side story toIron and Sorcery, told from future Armin's point of view
Relationships: SpongeBob SquarePants/Squidward Tentacles
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please make sure to read the main fic, [here,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25585720) before reading this one. This fic is full of spoilers from _Iron and Sorcery_ and doesn't make sense without having read it first.

My name is Armin, and I am a red mage.

I was born in the town of Lastfield, though I have no memories of the place. About six hours after my birth, I was taken to Irongrove. The town is many, many miles south of Lastfield, and we never returned there after we left.

Who is “we”?

There are just two of us: me and my father.

My father’s name is Avior; he’s the most powerful red wizard in the entire land. I’ve been told by visiting spellcasters that I’m incredibly fortunate to be the son of such a strong wizard. Indeed, it does feel like a privilege sometimes. I mean, who else can say such a thing about their own father? He was one of the six who defeated the black wizard Zurnas, who’d ruled our land with his evil tyranny.

But there’s a side to my father he never lets anyone see whenever they visit. I’ve known that side my whole life, and when I was eight, I fully understood why that side existed. Ever since then, I kept quiet regarding that hidden side of my father. See, I have a second parent – though that should go without saying – but he’s been gone for many, many years.

My earliest memory was from when I was four, and I couldn’t go to sleep one night. The house was quiet, but as soon as I slipped out of bed, I heard a soft, “Meow.”

I looked over by the bed and saw a light blue snail with a pink shell and a green hat on top of the shell. The snail was about as big as I was, but I knew he was friendly; after all, this was Jayde, the beastmaster who’d accompanied my parents on their journey just before I was born.

“I can’t sleep,” I told him.

“Meow, meow,” Jayde replied.

“I know, but I wanna go see Father.”

Jayde gave me a doubtful look. “Meow meow, meow. Meow.”

“I’ll come right back if he’s asleep, okay?”

“Meow.” Jayde didn’t look pleased, but he let me go.

As I tiptoed down the dark hall, I thought about Jayde. He’d joined my parents rather early on in their quest, and after I was born and the black wizard was defeated, he accompanied my father to Irongrove. When I previously mentioned two of us, I should have said three. Jayde was no pet; he was a powerful beastmaster who’d summoned mighty dragons to aid my parents’ party during major battles. He was a valuable asset in their journey and had been told as much by my dad on several occasions.

However, since the quest was over, he decided to go to Irongrove with my father and serve as a sort of guardian and companion. He told me he never summoned another dragon since the black wizard’s defeat, and he had no intention of ever doing so again. He never told me why he refused to use his powers, and I never thought to ask. Perhaps it was for the best that I didn’t ask him.

Within moments, I stood at the door to my father’s bedroom; it was open, though just slightly. I slowly pushed the door further into the room, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Come on in, Armin.”

I froze. I could have sworn I wasn’t making a sound, though I didn’t realise at the time that not only did Father see the door opening, he sensed my magic and knew I was there. I tried to calm myself as I opened the door the rest of the way and entered. The room was dark, but I could make out my father sitting up in bed, watching me. Did I wake him up?

Father held out his hands, and I grabbed them to help climb onto the bed. “Why are you not in bed?” he asked, his deep voice gentle. I knew he wasn’t mad at me; he was merely curious.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I replied.

Father pointed a hand at the nightstand beside the bed and murmured, “Fire.” A small flame shot from his hand and lit a candle, illuminating part of the room. He then picked me up and held me close. I put my arms around him, taking comfort in his warmth and love. “Sometimes I can’t go to sleep either, my son,” he admitted.

“Really?” I looked up at him. Father seemed to be so sure of himself all the time, especially since he knew he was the strongest red wizard in the land. Although he seldom smiled and frequently seemed melancholic, I didn’t think he would have any issues like insomnia.

“Sometimes when I lie in bed and try to go to sleep, I remember the journey I was on not so long ago. We spent many nights sleeping either in the woods or at an inn, and each night after the first one in Swanpoint, I…” He faltered, and he took a moment to clear his throat before continuing. “Every night since then, I always went to sleep holding him in my arms.”

“Dad?” I guessed.

He nodded. “If I were ever troubled about something, when I went to bed for the night, I’d hold him in my arms and tell him how much I loved him. He’d always say that he loved me as well, and I knew it was true because of the connection we shared. No matter what happened during the day, we laid together in each other’s arms that night and spoke of our love for the other.”

I felt him shaking, but I kept quiet as he continued. “It… It’s hard to go to sleep when the love of my life is gone… I’ll never feel his loving embrace again, nor will I be able to kiss him again.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I loved him, Armin, so, so much. I knew he would have to leave this world when we defeated the black wizard, but… Oh, Azemar, my love, my life…”

I was startled to feel something wet hitting my face, and I realised it was tears falling from Father’s eyes. He held me tightly as he cried. I laid my head on his chest and didn’t say anything as the tears continued falling on me.

It was the first time I’d seen my father cry.

He later told me he let Dad see him cry only once, when the great king arrived to take Dad and his Viking friend back to their world. His heart was broken to pieces when Dad was taken away. Father had said he’d seen Dad crying, too, and knew it was something neither of them wanted… but they had no choice. Dad and his friend didn’t belong in our world, and after the black wizard’s defeat, a great king arrived to right the wrong and took Dad and his friend back to their world. The great king didn’t care that Dad loved Father and didn’t know they’d worked together to give birth to me just hours ago. He just picked up Dad and his friend and took them away. Dad had screamed and cried as he was taken away against his will, and Father had sobbed and sobbed, knowing he was powerless to stop the great king.

The only two things left behind by Dad were his sword and me.

* * *

Father is an octopus, but more importantly, he’s a red wizard. His entire outfit consists of a red-and-white top, red breeches, brown boots, black gloves with white cuffs, a long red cape and a large red wizard’s hat. The top has a high collar and a gold brooch just underneath, and four white buttons on the front of the top. A white belt circles his waist, and the rest of the top extends to cover some of the breeches. His boots nearly reach his knees and are topped with white cuffs. The gloves are black with large white cuffs trimmed with gold, and the hat has a wide brim with the top curling back into a point. All in all, Father looks quite sharp whenever he’s in full dress.

However, most of the time when he’s at home with me, he doesn’t wear his hat or cape. Gets in the way, he once told me. I understood the practicality of it, though I always preferred to see him in complete regalia, casting spells. I longed to see what he was like whenever he fought monsters alongside Dad; I bet they made a formidable team.

Speaking of Dad, the only things I knew about him were from what Father told me. Dad, whose name is Azemar, is a sponge, just like me, but he’s yellow in colour – whereas I’m the same teal colour as Father – and has hands with fingers, whilst I have tentacles. When he was a knight, Dad wore simple silver armour over a black jumpsuit, and he carried a sword he used in every single battle he fought. As a paladin, Dad’s armour was light silver and bore the emblem of the king, and his jumpsuit was a beautiful indigo colour. His sword became more elaborate in design and had several runes on the surface of the blade. Father said it was a sight to behold; he could practically see the power emanating from Dad whenever he fought.

Azemar came from some other world, though Avior was the only one who knew he’d come from a different world. The others in the party were told he and his friend, Thorstein the Viking, hailed from a different land. The story was that they were chosen to come to our land as part of a prophecy to take down the black wizard and restore peace. The truth told to Avior was that Azemar and his friend were brought here to this world from their own against their wills. Neither wanted to be here, but Azemar was sure the only way to go back home was to defeat the black wizard.

Partway through their journey, Azemar and Avior fell deeply in love with each other, and Azemar knew he wanted to stay here. However, they still needed to complete their quest. Azemar knew his friend wasn’t happy here and wanted to make sure Thorstein returned home safely. They also needed to defeat Zurnas to restore peace to the land; not just for themselves, but for everyone who lived here both in the present and future.

At some point, Azemar and Avior realised the former would likely be unable to stay when they defeated Zurnas. It saddened them greatly, since they loved each other so much, but since Azemar didn’t know how he was brought to his world, there was a good chance he’d be returned, no matter how hard he tried to stay. It broke their hearts knowing they’d be separated after saving the land.

But Azemar didn’t belong here.

After arriving at Lastfield, Azemar decided to leave a bit of his “legacy” behind. He wouldn’t have anything to remember his time here, but Avior would have something very precious: their child. As a sponge, Azemar could reproduce by himself whenever he wanted, but his children would only look like him. He and Avior wanted their child to look like both of them, so Avior used his magic on Azemar whilst he reproduced, and I was born. Father has told me I mostly look like Dad, but I have several of his traits as well. The one thing that always stood out to Father about me was the colour of my eyes. Father’s are a deep maroon and Dad’s are a bright azure. Mine are dark turquoise. Father has guessed the colour came from a mixture of their colours, though he’s not entirely certain of this.

A few hours after I was born, Dad and Father left me behind at the inn they’d stayed at so they could fight the black wizard. Afterwards, Dad and his friend were taken away to their rightful world, and Father returned to the inn alone to get me. The remaining party members – Liang Yuhan the black belt, Jayde the beastmaster and Shipley the thief – accompanied Father to his destination. Shipley parted ways when they got to Roserock; he’d been ruler of the town, thanks to Zurnas, and wanted to continue ruling peacefully. Liang stayed until they arrived here at Irongrove. She wanted to go on more quests, but Dad was gone, and Father refused to go anywhere since he now had an infant son to raise. He had no desire for journeying anymore. So Liang left to go on her own quest.

It was just me, Father and Jayde ever since then. I never met Liang or Shipley, and I’d never get to meet Thorstein or my dad, Azemar the paladin.

* * *

I was five when Father asked me if I knew what path I wanted to take as a profession. I knew he was hoping I’d tell him I wanted to be a red mage, since that was the path he eventually took. But I remembered hearing stories about Dad, the powerful paladin who came from a different world. In his home world, Azemar was not a knight, but he was one when he came here. He took to his abilities rather quickly and showed great courage and leadership when the party faced each servant of the black wizard. When Father watched him fight, he saw Azemar’s strikes were swift and sure, his blade finding its mark without fail.

It would be amazing if I could carry on Dad’s legacy by becoming a knight myself. Maybe someday I could be a paladin, just like Dad, and become a servant of the king. I was sure Father would understand when I planned to tell him my decision.

However, about the time I came to this conclusion, I’d noticed something odd. Whenever Father wanted to light a candle or start a fire in the fireplace, he’d point his hand at the candle or wood, say, “Fire,” and a bit of flame would come from his hand and light the object. I never thought anything of it, since Father was a red wizard and had the ability to use fire, ice and thunder as black magic spells. He also used white magic, though not as often, but I was most captivated by his Fire spells.

A few days before Father asked me about my career path, I got very curious and wanted to see if I could copy what he did. I pointed my hand at a candle I kept on my own nightstand in my room, concentrated and said, “Fire.”

To my complete shock, a tiny bit of flame shot from my outstretched tentacle and lit the candle, and I gasped. I could use black magic just like Father! A moment later, I realised what that also meant: I was a spellcaster. Disappointment settled in as I knew Father would want me to study spellcasting. But I wanted to be a knight like Dad, how could I do both?

That’s when it struck me.

When Father asked me what path I wanted to take, I said, “I want to be a knight and a red mage.”

He stared at me for the longest time, not saying a word. I could tell he was surprised by my answer and needed a moment to think of a proper response. At last, he asked, “Why do you want to be both?”

“Because I wanna be like my Dad _and_ Father,” I replied. “I can cast Fire spells already, and I know I can be a brave knight just like you said Dad was. So I wanna be like both of you.”

Father picked me up and sat me in his lap. We were in the main room; the only other occupant was Jayde, who was dozing by the fireplace. “You are so much like Azemar,” Father said softly. I could see the sorrow in his eyes and knew his heart still ached for the paladin he loved dearly. I remembered that night he held me in his arms and cried for Dad, who he knew he’d never see again. Although I knew I was just as powerless about it as Father was, I wanted to see my dad as well.

After a few moments, Father spoke up again. “I think it’s great you want to be like both of us, Armin. I know your dad would be proud of you for making such a decision. Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s possible to take both paths.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Becoming a red mage is much more difficult than following the path of a white or black spellcaster. As you know, white magic is only for defensive spells, and black magic is only for offensive spells. Red spellcasters learn both black _and_ white magic, which is an incredibly difficult thing to do. It takes far more effort, concentration and power to be able to cast both types of spells.

“Knights have to learn more than just swordplay; they have to study the duties expected of them not just on the battlefield, but when they’re in service to the king as well as how they must conduct themselves at all times. Combining all of that in addition to the rigorous training a red mage has to undergo, it would be far too much for one person to do.”

“Did Dad have to do all that as a knight?” I hadn’t recalled Father mentioning a knight’s duties when he talked about Dad.

“No, but he was an exception. You see, Azemar wasn’t a knight in his world. Such a profession doesn’t exist there. But when he came here, he and his friend found themselves in professions chosen for them, and Azemar was a knight whilst Thorstein was a Viking. Neither had prior training and therefore didn’t know what was expected of them. But they were here for the quest, for the prophecy.

“As for you, Armin, you have the opportunity to choose what you want to do. Your dad didn’t have a choice, and, to a small extent, neither did I. But you were born from a paladin and a red wizard, which is highly unusual, and I’m giving you the freedom to choose whatever path you want to pursue. If you want to become a red mage, you can do so. If you want to be a knight, you can do so. If you decide on something else entirely, I won’t stop you.

“My parents never gave me that option and they only wanted me to become a black spellcaster. I know all too well how much it hurt living under that restriction, and I don’t wish to replicate it. You’re my precious son, a part of me, and I love you far more than my parents ever loved me. I want you to be happy with whatever decision you make, and I’ll stand by that decision, no matter what it may be.”

“But I can’t be a knight and a red mage,” I pointed out.

“It’s better for you that you don’t. That would be far too much work for you, or anyone, to handle.”

I sighed and looked away. Father wanted to support my decision but didn’t like the one I’d chosen. What could I do?

Thankfully, Father was thinking of a solution. He could tell I really wanted to take after both my parents, but it just wasn’t possible. At last, he spoke up again.

“What if I told you there was a way to follow both professions without actually doing both?”

“Huh?” I looked up at him in confusion.

“You said you can cast Fire spells, right?” I nodded. “Then you should train as a red mage.”

“But Father—”

He held up a hand to silence me. “Wait, hear me out. Your usage of Fire spells shows you have the ability to become at least a black mage, if not a red one. With proper schooling and training, you could eventually become a red mage. Now, before you protest again, listen. I’d had a problem as a red mage myself; it was a weakness your dad pointed out. Spellcasters use MP to cast spells, but those points can quickly run out if you’re not careful. Azemar never had that problem as a knight, as he was a physical fighter. When you fight with your fists or with weapons, you don’t use any MP at all.

“Azemar had once told me a great way to make my MP last longer was to buy a weapon and use it instead of just casting spells all the time. When we were about to leave Roserock, he bought a short sword for me.” He nodded at the weapon, which leaned against the wall near the fireplace. “I’d tried to use it, but I was just too used to spellcasting, so I never got the hang of fighting with a sword in place of casting spells.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You want me to use a sword?”

“Yes. If you start training early enough, you won’t share my weakness, and you’ll be better prepared in battle.” He paused. “But your sword won’t be just any ordinary sword.”

At first, I was puzzled by his words. But after a few moments, it dawned on me and my eyes widened. “Y- You mean…”

Father nodded. “You’re inheriting Azemar’s sword, the one he carried with him throughout the entire quest.”

I gasped. “F- Father, are you sure?”

“I’m very sure. You’ll become a red mage but will carry the sword of the bravest knight in the land. You won’t have my weakness of physical fighting, and it’s a good compromise for not being able to become a knight. How does that sound?”

I smiled the biggest smile I could muster. “I love it, Father.”

“Good.” He gave a small smile. “Tonight, we’re going to bed early, and first thing in the morning, we’ll have breakfast at the bakery before I take you to the town’s spellcasting school to enrol.”

The next morning, I was enrolled at the school, and a month later, I was preparing for my first day as a red mage. Father woke me up earlier than usual so he could help me put on my new clothes – it was a red mage’s uniform, coloured crimson with gold trim. I also had black gloves and boots, which made for a neat contrast to all the red. Father had told me he’d worn a similar outfit when he was a mage. When I was dressed, he held out a red hat with a white band and a long white feather tucked into the band.

As I put it on my head, Father gazed at me for several long moments. “It’s incredible,” he murmured.

“What’s incredible?” I asked, adjusting the hat before checking over my uniform.

“It seems like just a few days ago when I held you in my arms and fed you from a bottle… and now, you’re going to your first day of spellcaster training.”

I didn’t really understand what he meant, but I could tell he was proud of me for choosing the path of a red mage. I still wanted to be a knight as well and remembered what Father had said when he’d suggested his compromise.

“When do I get to use Dad’s sword?”

I caught a flash of panic across his features. “In a few more years,” he replied. “The sword is a bit too big for you right now, and I’d rather you learn to use it when you’re able to properly hold it.”

“Can I see the sword?”

“Maybe after you finish your lessons for the day. For now,” he shooed me out the door as he also left and closed it behind him, “we need to get some breakfast before you go to school.”

“Okay.” I wasn’t happy about it, but at least I’d have the chance to see the sword that had once belonged to my dad and that I would someday use.

* * *

He watched his son enter the building, and he turned back for home. As he walked, his mind drifted back to a happier time, a more loving time. He recalled many conversations he’d had with the paladin during their journey, as well as all the times they said they loved each other, held each other and kissed each other. It had felt so wonderful, the sensation of the paladin’s lips against his own, and letting all the love overcome him, thanks to their shared connection.

He remembered that morning, just over five years ago, when he held the paladin’s hands and helped him birth their son. It took a tremendous amount of effort and concentration, especially since he had to be careful with using his own magic within the paladin’s body. It would be far too easy for his magic to run wild and destroy the paladin from within.

But he was careful, and after a time, they were able to hold their son in their arms. He’d never loved the paladin any more in that moment than he ever had before, and his love for him was already quite immense.

And now…

Now the paladin was gone, never to return.

Never to see their son grow up into a young man they could be proud of.

Never to see him again, never to kiss him again.

He wasn’t sure how he managed to find his home through the tears, but the instant he closed the door behind him, he dropped to his knees and sobbed. He didn’t want the paladin to see him cry, though the only time he couldn’t hide his tears was when the great king took the paladin away from him forever.

He didn’t want his son to see him cry, either; after all, not only was he the boy’s father, he was the most powerful red wizard in the entire land. He also needed to put on a tough front so other wizards would respect him more.

But when he was alone, when he was sure no one was around, he cried and cried. His heart had started aching the moment he lost sight of the paladin, and the ache had never gone away, even now. It was a terrible fate he and the paladin had found themselves in, that morning when he confessed his true feelings, but he knew he couldn’t hide those feelings forever. The paladin also knew he couldn’t hide his own feelings. It had felt so good to not only realise what those feelings were, but to hold the paladin in his arms and kiss him. He knew there was no way they could have made it through their entire quest without letting those feelings out into the open.

It was a terrible fate they were part of, and now they were paying the price.

He stayed there on his knees by the front door, crying all the tears he could muster. He’d never cried this much, but at the same time, he’d never loved anyone as much as he loved the paladin. His pain, his broken heart, would stay like this for the rest of his life.

“Azemar,” he murmured through the tears. “Oh, Azemar, my love, please come back to me…”


	2. Chapter 2

After my lessons were finished for the day, I raced out of the school. Sure, it was fun learning about the spells I’d soon be casting, but I had more exciting things to look forward to. I could only hope Father would uphold his promise.

I was a few yards away from the school when I stopped in surprise. Standing at the entrance gate was none other than Father, who seemed to look sadder than ever. I knew better than to ask him why he looked so sad, as he would refuse to tell me. I was certain it was related to Dad; after that night a year ago when he held me and cried, I knew he was heartbroken at being separated from Dad. Most days he was okay, taking care of himself as well as me, but other days he looked as though he wanted to disappear from this world for good. He never let others see him when he was in such a state, but he couldn’t hide it from me.

My classmates streamed around me as I walked towards the gate, wondering how to ask him about Dad’s sword. My concern for Father made it hard to think of the right words to say. He’d seemed fine this morning; what happened during the time I was in school?

I stopped before Father, who appeared to be in a daze. I gently touched his hand, and he blinked before looking down at me. His gaze saddened even more; it was a wonder he didn’t burst into tears on the spot. My thoughts about the sword were driven from my mind.

“What’s wrong, Father?” The words were out before I could stop them. I knew what he would say, why did I ask?

Father shook his head and took a deep breath. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied. I caught a waver at the beginning of his statement and knew he’d been crying recently.

Dad, I thought. Something made him think of Dad and set him off crying again. This time, I knew better than to ask further, since I would get more denial and avoidance. Instead, I held his hand and smiled at him. “Let’s go home, Father.”

“Y- Yes, home.”

As we walked through the town, I told him about the things I’d learnt in school. I knew he was familiar with the basics, but it helped keep the mood light and away from dwelling on Dad any further. I couldn’t blame Dad for putting Father in this state, and I couldn’t be angry at him, either. It wasn’t Dad’s fault he was taken away.

I couldn’t help but wonder what Dad’s world was like. All Father had told me was that it was a vastly different world than ours, and the professions we had here did not exist in Dad’s world. I wanted to know more, but unfortunately, that was all Dad had said during the quest. Even Father was left in the dark about this other world.

When we got home, I let go of Father’s hand as he sank onto the couch. He looked terribly drained, as though he’d over-exerted himself. I was given a book at school, and I set it on the dining table as I fetched a glass of water for him. Everything seemed secondary in the face of Father’s current condition. Sure, he was the most powerful red wizard, but he was a heartbroken red wizard who wanted nothing more than to see his beloved paladin once again.

But we both knew that was impossible.

I took the water to him, and he murmured his thanks before taking a drink. After a moment, he seemed to realise where he was and who was in the room with him. “How was your first day at school?” he asked.

I decided not to tell him I’d already talked about what I’d learnt during the walk home, since I was certain he hadn’t heard a word I’d said. I also didn’t feel like repeating everything, so I answered, “It was good. There’s a whole lotta stuff I’m gonna have to remember, and I dunno if I can do it.”

He gave me a reassuring smile. “I know you’ll be able to do it, Armin. It might sound like a lot, but it’s not difficult to learn. Before you know it, you’ll know how to cast many different types of spells and become a great red mage.”

“Do you think I’ll be as good as you someday, Father?”

“I know you will. You’ll probably become even better than me.”

My eyes widened in surprise. Father was the strongest red wizard in the entire land; how could I possibly become better than him?

“Would you like to see your dad’s sword?” he asked, standing.

“Can I?”

“Of course. I’d promised you I would let you see it after you finished school today, and I don’t go back on my word.” Father crossed the room to the fireplace, where he reached up and picked up something from the mantel.

When I saw what it was, I gasped. The sheath was made from wood with metal accents and looked rather small in Father’s hands. The hilt was clearly visible and had two dark gemstones embedded on either side of it, with a third gem protruding from the bottom. I could tell, when I was older, I’d be able to carry the sword with ease. It was as though the sword was made just for me.

Father carried the sword to the dining room and set it on the table. I hopped onto one of the chairs and leaned on the table to get a better look as Father unsheathed the sword. The blade gleamed silver, reflecting the afternoon light coming in from the window. It looked as though it had just been purchased from the armoury and was never used.

“Azemar…”

I looked up at Father when I heard him murmur Dad’s name. He had grown sad again, and I could tell he was mentally re-living the memories of his journey with Dad and all their friends.

He took a slow, deep breath before speaking again. “This is Azemar’s sword, Armin. He had this with him from the moment he came to this world until the end of our journey when the great king took him and Thorstein away. When he became a paladin during the battle against Skels in Whiteland, the sword changed its appearance. But when Azemar was taken away, and I picked up his sword, it changed back into this form. I suppose it’s because its master was no longer there to give it power.” He pointed to the gems. “Did you know these gemstones represent us?”

“They do?” I squinted at the dark stones.

“Yes. This maroon-coloured one represents me. It started glowing when we were fighting Garm in Springwick and I thought Azemar had died. The azure stone opposite from mine represents your dad. It began glowing when Azemar saw Tren killing me in Ravenwood.”

“You _died_?” I stared at him in shock.

He nodded. “Azemar died as well, when Skels killed him. His death and subsequent resurrection were what caused him to become a paladin, just as my death and revival allowed me to become a red wizard. I was later told when Azemar witnessed my death, he was completely heartbroken. He’d cried and cried, then later was filled with so much rage and sorrow, the azure stone on his sword lit up and gave him an extra boost of power.”

“How did you guys come back to life?”

“A golden feather.”

“A… feather?” I blinked.

“Yes, it’s a beautiful golden feather called Phoenix Down. It has the power to revive someone if they’re killed in battle. Azemar had found one a few days before we went to Ravenwood, and I found one the day before we reached Whiteland. We didn’t know what the feathers were for but ended up using them on each other. Azemar later remembered what they did and told us about it. Those feathers are the only reason we’re both alive.”

“So what’s this gem for?” I pointed to the third stone, the one that stuck out from the base of the hilt.

“This one represents you, Armin. See? It’s a dark turquoise colour, just like your eyes.”

“Did Dad get that one to glow, too?”

Father nodded again. “It was during the battle against the black wizard. You were already born by then, and we’d left you behind at the inn whilst we went to fight him. When he realised the black wizard didn’t care about the future of this land or any of its inhabitants, Azemar flew into a rage and that was when the third gem lit up.” He turned his gaze to me, and I saw so much love and pain in those maroon depths. “You were Azemar’s symbol of the future, Armin. He wanted to bring peace to this land so you could be raised in a safe environment full of love. The black wizard only wanted to rule until the land fell to ruin, then he’d move on elsewhere. Azemar and I stood for everything he was against, and he wanted to bring about the end of our resistance.”

His gaze lowered to the sword, and I also looked down at the weapon. It was a beautiful sword, even with the gems not glowing. I could hardly believe such a weapon would be mine someday soon. “Do you think I could get the gems to light up?” I found myself asking.

Again, Father was silent for several long moments.

“I know you will.”

* * *

A knock on the door startled him out of his reverie. When he answered the door, his eyes widened in surprise before he quickly recovered.

“Liang.”

The black belt standing opposite from him nodded. “Avior.”

She had a rucksack slung over her shoulder and looked mostly the same as the last time he saw her, five years ago, but she appeared to have put on quite a lot of weight. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was heavily pregnant. However, he remembered what she’d told Azemar when he asked if she was interested in starting a family – she’d said no – and dismissed the thought.

“What brings you here?”

“What, I can’t come by to say ‘howdy’ to an old friend?”

He scoffed. “We’re not old, and I didn’t think you ever considered me as a friend. You were quick to leave once you realised Azemar wasn’t returning and I had no intention of going on another journey.”

Liang shrugged. “Ya gotta point. It took me the longest time to trust ya, too.”

“Do you still trust me?”

She studied him for several long moments. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then come inside.” He moved away from the door.

“Thanks.” She stepped inside.

“So why have you come here?”

Liang looked around. “The boy ain’t here?”

“No, he’s at school.”

“Becomin’ a red mage just like ya, huh?”

Avior shrugged. “Why don’t you quit avoiding my question and tell me why you’re here.”

“There are a few reasons, but may I sit first?”

“Sure.” He gestured to the couch.

“Thanks again.” She sank onto the couch and let out a sigh as she set her rucksack beside her. “It ain’t easy makin’ a long trip out here, ‘n I needed to get off my feet for a bit.”

Avior raised an eyebrow. “Long trip? Where did you come from?”

Liang looked guilty as she answered, “Honeywind.”

“But that’s not far; only a day’s journey by foot.”

“Yeah, but it’s long in my condition.” She patted her rounded stomach.

“So you decided to have a baby, although you’d told Azemar you had no intention of doing so?” Avior crossed his arms over his chest.

“Actually, this fella here’s gonna be number two.”

“T- Two?”

“Yep. I had my first one couple years ago, ‘n figured I’d have another one. This one’s due pretty soon.”

“Then why did you come here in your condition? Wouldn’t it have been better to wait until after the baby is born?”

“I needed to get outta the house for a while. Ya know us Yuhans ain’t good at stayin’ put for long, ‘n it’s been drivin’ me crazy stayin’ at home the past three years. Takin’ care of two babies will keep me at home even longer.”

“Which brings us back to the question you keep avoiding.”

“I know, I know.” Liang waved a hand dismissively. “Like I said, there are some reasons. First one bein’ me checkin’ to see how y’all been doin’ since I last saw ya.”

“Armin and I are doing just fine; there’s no need for concern.”

“Yeah? Then why do ya look so sad?”

Avior hesitated. He never considered himself close to Liang – or anyone else in the party besides Azemar – but things were much different now the quest was over and at least half of the party members were parents. How much could he tell the black belt?

He blew out a sigh. “Alright, I’m not fine at all.” He sat in a nearby chair. “It’s hard getting through each day without Azemar; sometimes I can’t even go to sleep. It’s been more than five years since he was taken away from me, and my heart still aches for him every single day.” Tears brimmed in his eyes. “I don’t know how I managed to get through those early weeks after that day, and I can’t help but ask myself why I keep going, even now.”

“That’s an obvious one.” Liang snorted.

“It is?”

“Armin.”

He blinked. “…Armin?”

“Your son. He’s Azemar’s son, too. Ya can’t just leave Armin behind to fend for himself; the boy needs at least one of his paws to raise ‘im.”

“But…”

Liang sighed. “I’ll admit I didn’t right understand myself, but becomin’ a parent myself, I know how it feels.” She ran a hand over her stomach and smiled. “Y’all didn’t get a chance like I get to feel the baby growin’ inside ya, but ya know what it was like givin’ birth to Armin. I know he came from Azemar, but he’s a part of both of ya, ‘n ya love him a whole lot. You’ll do anythin’ to protect ‘im ‘n make sure he’s loved better than you ever were.”

“I—”

“I still remember what ya said ‘bout your own folks.” Liang’s gaze was serious as she regarded him. “They weren’t good parents to ya, ‘n now ya got your own kid, ya wanna make sure he don’t grow up in the same situation. It ain’t easy when Azemar ain’t here, but at least you can give Armin all the love he deserves. Ya can’t walk away from that, Avior, no matter how much ya love Azemar. ‘Sides, ya know Azemar would never forgive ya if ya left Armin by himself.”

Avior lowered his head, fighting back his tears. “Y- You’re right, Liang. I could never leave Armin alone, not after everything I’d gone through in Silverbay. But… But why did Azemar have to leave us…?”

“Because he had to return to the world he’d come from,” Liang replied. “He never told us he came from a different world, ‘n he didn’t belong here. The great king came to return things to the way they’re supposed to be, with everyone in their proper world.”

Avior kept his gaze on the floor. He hadn’t told the others he was the only one who _did_ know Azemar came from another world – in fact, he was still the only one who knew Azemar’s true name was Spongebob Squarepants, and he was the only one who knew everyone in the party looked like Azemar’s friends from his world. He himself was identical to Azemar’s neighbour, Squidward Tentacles. Azemar had told him he only looked and sounded like Squidward but acted completely different. In a way, Avior had been curious to meet Squidward and learn more about his lookalike. But just as Azemar and Thorstein didn’t belong in this world, he didn’t belong in Azemar’s world.

“Anyway,” Liang continued, unaware of Avior’s thoughts, “another reason I’m here is because I’ve been hearin’ whispers, ‘n I wanted to get the truth from the source.”

“Whispers?” Avior looked back up at her.

“Yeah, we gotta couple spellcasters in Honeywind, ‘n they hear things from other spellcasters in other towns. They’ve been sayin’ the strongest spellcaster has been conductin’ research ‘n studies ‘bout somethin’ right strange. It’s been grabbin’ the interest of spellcasters all across the land.”

“…Oh.” Avior lowered his gaze again.

“I know you’ve been labelled as the strongest red wizard,” Liang continued, “’n I reckon you’re probably stronger than the strongest white ‘n black wizards, too. So I figured you were up to somethin’ with this researchin’ ‘n stuff, ‘n wanted to find out more myself.” She studied him for a moment. “Ya are researchin’ somethin’, ain’tcha?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

Avior let out a sigh. “I’m looking into something that’s never been done before, and if I can pull it off with enough help, it’ll revolutionise everything we’ve ever known.”

“What’s that?”

“Time travel.”

Liang blinked. “You’re… You’re kiddin’, right?”

“I’m quite serious.” Avior returned her gaze, his expression matching his words. “There is so much we don’t know about magic; it’s primarily restricted to the battlefield and used to hurt or heal others. Since I’ve ascended to a wizard, I can feel so much potential for my magic, but the only time I’ve used it for means other than harming or healing others was when I used it to help Azemar give birth to Armin. I don’t believe such a thing has ever been done before, and since I could do so with my own magic, the possibilities of doing even greater things with magic are just about endless. I’ve spent some time thinking over various things I could do with my magic, and eventually decided to try my hand at time travel.”

“But why time travel?”

“I want to see Azemar again.”

“Are ya serious? That’s why you’re lookin’ into travellin’ through time?”

“I know it’s selfish, but… I miss him, Liang.” The love and pain he felt was evident in his voice. “I love Azemar so, so much, and I’ve been in tremendous pain every day for five and a half years. Even if it’s for a few seconds, even if I must hide in the shadows again, I just want to see my beloved paladin one more time.”

“Why can’t ya go to his world?”

He shook his head. “That would take far too much magic, more than all the spellcasters in this land could summon. We’d also have to know what Azemar’s world looks like, but none of us have any idea. It’ll take an enormous amount of magic to travel backwards in time, but I think it’s possible. I clearly recall many things that happened during our journey, which will help make it easier to know what everything looked like then.”

“…Does the boy know?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“How could I tell him I’m planning something revolutionary just to settle a selfish desire?”

“Well, you’re doin’ it, ain’tcha?”

“Yes.”

“Then he’s gotta right to know. Ya ain’t perfect, Avior, ‘n your kid knows that. He needs to know what his paw’s doin’, especially when it’s somethin’ on this kinda scale. How do ya think he’d feel if he heard ‘bout it from someone else, ‘n he realises you’ve been hidin’ it from ‘im all that time?”

Avior sighed again. “Okay, I’ll tell him.”

Liang adjusted her sitting position and grimaced. “I tell ya, I’ll be right glad when I can get this baby outta me.”

Avior looked up at her. “But I thought—”

“I know what I said,” Liang interrupted. “’N I still mean what I said. It’s a wonderful thing havin’ a new life growin’ inside me, ‘n I’m right glad I’m a maw to my lil’ boy, ‘n soon this lil’ one, too. I’m sure it’ll be a girl.” She placed both hands on top of her stomach. “It just ain’t peaches ‘n cream all the time; I gotta deal with all the extra weight right here, ‘n it can tire me out. I can also feel the baby movin’ around ‘n know she’ll be comin’ soon.”

“Will you be okay going back to Honeywind on your own? I don’t mind accompanying you if you need any assistance.”

“Naw, I’m good, but thanks for askin’. My mate said the same thing to me ‘fore I left, but I wanted to come here alone.”

“Mate?”

“Yeah, I ain’t ‘bout to start havin’ babies without no mate around.” Liang smiled for a moment, then her expression turned serious again. “Listen. Don’t be keepin’ stuff from Armin. The boy’s gotta right to know what you’re doin’. But don’t forget ya _have_ a son; I know you’re all upset ‘bout Azemar bein’ gone, but we can’t do nothin’ to change that, even with your fancy time-travellin’. I don’t think you should be tryin’ such a thing, anyway; nothin’ good is gonna come outta it. Keep your mind in the present, Avior, ‘n focus on raisin’ your boy. He’s the most important thing in your life right now; don’t mess it up. He ain’t ever gonna forgive ya if ya neglect to take care of him.”

“I appreciate your concern, Liang, but I’m still going through with the time travel experiment. Don’t worry about Armin; I’ve been taking care of him. If the experiment is a success, I’ll take him back in time with me, and—”

“Wait, don’t tell me you’re gonna try to _stay_ in the past?” Liang wore an incredulous look.

Avior grew thoughtful. “I hadn’t occurred to me, but…”

“No. No, no, no.” Liang shook her head. “Don’t even _start_ thinkin’ of it. I’m tellin’ ya, stay here in the present. Raise your boy the way he’s supposed to be raised: with all the love ya never got from your own folks, ‘n the love ya know Azemar woulda’ given ‘im. I’m beggin’ ya, Avior, forget this whole time-travellin’ nonsense, please.”

“You won’t change my mind, no matter how much you ask me to reconsider.”

“Then I guess I’m done here.” Liang slowly hauled herself to her feet and picked up her rucksack. “I was hopin’ to stay a lil’ longer, at least enough to see Armin for a bit, but I can’t stay when I know you’re gonna do somethin’ right foolish. I ain’t supportin’ it, and I ain’t supportin’ you.”

Avior gave her a long, searching look. He knew she meant every word she said, and that she’d put up with the exhaustion of the trip back to Honeywind by herself to make her point and to cut herself off from him for good.

“Then this is goodbye.” He stood.

“It is. I ain’t comin’ back here no more.” She headed to the door and opened it. “I wish Azemar _was_ here, so he could tell ya what a dang fool you’re bein’. I feel sorry for Armin, too.”

“Goodbye, Liang.”

She sighed. “Goodbye, Avior.”

He watched as she left; he moved to the doorway as she made her way to the roadway and turned left. He was certain she’d have a meal at the tavern and re-stock her supplies before returning to Honeywind. It gave him enough time to seek her out if he wanted to apologise, which he knew was intentional. Despite her words, she was giving him another chance to reconsider.

He took a step back and closed the door. At that instant, a memory sprang to his mind:

_He pulled the paladin close to him and brought their lips together. Despite all the pain and sorrow rising between them, he felt the paladin’s immense love coming from his entire being and sent right to him as tears poured down those freckled cheeks. He sent all the love he could possibly muster to the paladin, knowing it was the final time they’d be able to kiss. He never wanted the moment to end, and he desperately tried to make their kiss last as long as possible._

_Unfortunately, the moment was over far too soon, and their lips were apart. He only had an instant to gaze into the brilliant azure eyes that reflected the love he felt for the paladin when the great king spoke._

_“I had a feeling there was a reason why you refused to leave. But you really can’t stay here any longer, Spongebob. This world is already beginning to crumble.”_

_The paladin stiffened. “It is?”_

_“Yes.” The great king reached a massive hand down, grabbed the paladin by the back of his armour and pulled him from his arms._

_“Avior!” the paladin screamed, holding out his hands._

_“Azemar!” He stood and held out a hand, wishing it could reach his beloved._

_“Avior, I love you!” the paladin shouted, tears streaming from his eyes again._

_“I love you too, Azemar!”_

_He couldn’t hold it back anymore; the pain was just too great. The paladin got his first – and only – glimpse of his own tears pouring down his face. He fell to his knees as he watched the paladin being taken further and further away; the paladin thrashed and fought against the great king but had no success._

_He was gone._

_Azemar was taken away, returned to his own world._

_And he was alone._

He leaned back against the closed door as he let his tears flow again, and soon slid down to sit against the door as he sobbed.

It had been five and a half years since Azemar was taken away from him, and Avior’s heart ached just as much as it had since that day.


	3. Chapter 3

I was almost six when Father told me about his experiment.

He’d waited till I had a day off from school before sitting me down at the dining table. Jayde was at the end of the table, watching both of us but not saying anything. I could tell something especially important was about to happen. Maybe Father would finally let me carry Dad’s sword?

“Armin.”

“Yes, Father?”

“There’s something you should know… something I’ve been keeping from you for quite some time.”

“What’s that?”

He lowered his gaze for a moment, and I waited patiently. It obviously was unrelated to Dad’s sword, so I wasn’t in a rush to hear what Father wanted to say.

“Have you ever thought about visiting a different point in time?”

An evasive question. My five-year-old mind couldn’t comprehend it, so I replied, “Sometimes, why?”

“What if I told you I was developing a way to make that possible?”

My eyes widened. “Really? You can go to different times?”

“Not yet.” He kept his gaze on his hands resting on the table. “But I’m working on it. If I’m successful, it’ll be possible to visit any point of time in the past or future. It would revolutionise everything we’ve ever known and change the way we think and act. Our technology would improve by leaps and bounds, and we could go to places in time we could previously only dream of.”

My eyes were enormous at this. I tried to imagine all the possibilities that would come about if Father could make time travel happen. It was incredible to comprehend, and my respect and admiration for my father grew.

“Meow.”

I was startled out of my thoughts, and I turned to Jayde. “Wh- What?”

“Meow, meow.” Jayde pointed his eyestalks at my father. “Meow. Meow.”

My gaze turned to him. “There’s another reason why you’re doing this?”

Father shot Jayde a glare, but the beastmaster was silent again. He sighed. “Yes, there’s another reason why I’m doing this.”

“What reason is that?”

“Azemar.”

“…Dad?”

“Call me selfish, but I want to see Azemar so badly.” His voice shook as tears filled his eyes. “I miss him so, so much… I want to hold him again, I want to kiss him again… I want to hear his voice and feel his love through our connection, I…”

As he spoke, my mind went off in a different direction. If time travel were possible, I could go to the past and see Dad before he was taken away. I could see what he was like whilst on his journey with Father and Jayde and their friends.

“I could see Dad?”

Father looked up at me, his expression one of sorrow and confusion.

“I could see Dad.” I found myself smiling as I repeated my words. “I could go back in time and see what Dad looked like, how he acted. It’d be so much fun!”

Father was taken aback. I didn’t know at the time that he’d not counted on me wanting to travel through time to see Azemar, as he’d only thought of himself. “I… suppose you could, yes,” he reluctantly agreed. “But you’re much too young right now.”

“When will I be old enough to go?”

“Er… W- Well, I haven’t developed the means to travel through time yet. I don’t know how long it’ll take. Perhaps you’ll be old enough by the time I’ve finished.”

“Okay!” I grinned. “I bet I’ll be all grown up by then, and we can go to the past together.”

“R- Right.” He looked away, then seemed to remember something as he returned his attention to me. “By the way, you’ll soon see other wizards coming to visit whilst I develop the means to time travel. I won’t be able to pull it off alone, so they’ll visit when they get the chance to help contribute to the experiment. But don’t worry, I won’t let any bad or mean wizards come here. I know them personally and they’re quite friendly. I’m sure you’ll enjoy meeting them, too.”

“I hope so,” I replied. “I like making new friends.”

* * *

Father later told me he’d already had some guests visit prior to his informing me of his experiment. There weren’t many spellcasters who came by at first, as Father was in the early stages of the experiment and there wasn’t a need for many of them just yet.

The visiting wizards were friendly, as Father had said. Some didn’t pay much attention to me, and some completely doted on me, fawning over “Avior’s cute little boy.” I disliked such a label – my name was Armin, not “Avior’s cute little boy” – but knew I had to act on my best behaviour with guests in the house. A few wizards pointed out how I didn’t look like my father at all, and Father calmly explained that I had a stronger resemblance to my other parent, but I was his son as well. A couple of them were shocked to learn my other parent was none other than the brave paladin who led the group that destroyed the black wizard; true to my father’s previous words, it was highly unusual for a spellcaster to have a baby with a non-spellcaster.

One or two of them were also given an explanation as to how such a couple could even produce a child. I didn’t understand what they meant, though I did recall a few of my peers thinking I was weird because I had two fathers whilst everyone else had a mother and father. I’d not known what a “mother” was but didn’t think to ask about it until I heard Father explaining my birth to the visiting wizards.

When Father told me he wouldn’t have any guests for the day, a month or so after my sixth birthday, I knew it was my chance. I waited until after breakfast, when Father sat in the main room and read over his research notes.

“Can I ask you a question, Father?”

He glanced up from his papers. “Of course.”

“What’s a mother?”

He stiffened, his eyes widening. “M… Mother…”

I nodded. “Some of the guys at school have said I’m weird because I don’t have a mother. What’s a mother?”

To my surprise, Father’s face reddened a bit and he cleared his throat. “Er, well… aren’t you a little young to be asking such a question?”

“Huh?” I was confused. “But everyone at school knows about a mother; why am I too young?”

He mulled over his words for a few moments. He took a deep breath before answering. “Well… you know how you have two fathers?”

“Yes.”

“Some people don’t have that; they have a mother and a father.”

“So what’s a mother?”

He appeared to be at a loss again. I still didn’t know why; I just had the one harmless question he didn’t seem to know how to answer. Perhaps he didn’t know what a mother was, either?

“Armin, do you know how you were born?”

“Yep!” I smiled and nodded. “Dad was the one who birthed me, but he did it very slowly so you could use your magic to make sure I looked like both of you, ‘cause if you didn’t, I’d look exactly like Dad. And you and Dad wanted me to take after you both.”

Now he looked startled. “H- How did you know all that?”

“I heard you telling the visiting wizards when they asked. Kinda funny how many of ‘em don’t know where babies come from.”

Again, his face reddened. “Er, ah, actually… that’s not how babies are normally born.”

“They’re not?”

“No, it’s—”

“Then… Then I’m not normal?” I felt dread creeping over me. Those kids at school were right; I _was_ weird. But what was normal? And what was a “mother”?

Father caught my panicked look and set down his papers. He leaned forward and picked me up before placing me on his lap and hugging me. I hugged him back, but I still wanted answers.

“Armin,” he softly began, “you’re much more than just ‘normal’. You’re the greatest thing that could have ever happened to me and Azemar… you’re our precious son, born from the love we have for each other. Your birth was an incredibly special thing; no, it wasn’t a typical birth, but it doesn’t make it any less significant. We both love you dearly, Armin, no matter how you were born. What matters is that you were born to us. Remember what I told you last year? You’re our symbol of the future, of the love and hope we hold for ourselves, for you, for this land.”

I nodded, trying to understand. “So I’m not weird for not being born normal?”

“Of course not.” Father smiled at me. “You’re different, and that makes you special.”

“But what about—”

He looked a bit uncomfortable, but said, “A baby is usually born to a woman, who is the mother. The man, or father, helps create the baby.”

“But Dad’s not a woman.”

“No, and he’s not your mother. He’s your father, just like I am.”

I thought this over. “So Dad makes me different?”

“You could say that, yes.”

“Then that means… Dad makes me special.”

“Yes.”

I smiled. “I’m special because of Dad.”

Father looked relieved. “You’re special in your own way, too, Armin.”

“Yeah, but how many other kids can say their Dad makes them special?”

“How many other kids can say their parents are the saviours of this land?” He pointed out mildly.

“Yeah!” My smile became a grin. “Nobody else has dads as powerful as mine, either.”

“Liang’s kids might, if she’s any indication,” Father muttered.

“Huh?”

“Er, nothing.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to worry about who your parents are; what matters is that we love you. I know your dad’s been gone for six years, but I also know he loves you a lot, too, even if he can’t see you.”

My mind flashed back to that night when Father held me in his arms and cried for Dad. My gaze lowered as I murmured, “Dad’s never coming back, is he?”

Father was silent for what felt like ages. I didn’t have to look at him to know he was fighting back his emotions, trying not to cry in front of his son. I knew the answer already, but it didn’t make it hurt any less when Father’s reply, just above a whisper, was, “No.”

I leaned against Father’s chest and tried not to cry myself. I’d never even seen Dad, and I knew I never would. Sure, Father said I was special because of Dad, but it wouldn’t bring him back.

Nothing would bring Dad back to us.

Father’s voice broke into my thoughts. “That’s why I’m conducting this experiment. If I can make it possible to travel through time, we can see Azemar again.”

“But it’ll only be Dad in the past, not Dad now.”

“…I know. But it’s the only way to see him again. None of us has enough power, even combined, to travel to a world none of us have ever seen. I’d love nothing more than to go to Azemar’s world right now and be with him again, but it’s just not possible. The next best option is to visit him in the past when we were together.”

I tried my hardest to hold back my tears, but a few began slipping down my cheeks. “I wanna see Dad,” I mumbled, burying my face into Father’s shirt.

I felt his arms around me again. “I know you do,” he murmured. “And so do I. I want to see my beloved Azemar so much… it hurts being away from him for so long. But there’s nothing we can do. Even all my power as a red wizard can’t bring him back.” He blew out a frustrated sigh. “All this magic at my disposal, and I can’t do the one thing I desire more than anything in the world. What good, then, is this power?”

I looked up at him. “You’re using it to travel to the past, aren’t you?”

He’d looked angered, but at my words, his expression saddened again. “Yes, but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.” Tears filled his eyes. “Oh, Azemar, my love, why did this have to happen…?”

I laid my head against his chest again as I wrapped my arms around him. I didn’t have an answer, since I didn’t fully comprehend why it had happened, either. I also knew I couldn’t take Dad’s place; sure, I loved Father immensely, and he loved me, but I wasn’t Dad… I wasn’t Azemar the paladin.

I was Armin the red mage.

* * *

I was all smiles that morning.

Father had finally agreed to let me carry Dad’s sword with me. He helped me hook the sheath to my belt, then stood back and looked me over. “You’re growing up so fast,” he said.

“Do you think I could practise using it?” I asked.

“Wait till after school. We’re currently under a time limit.”

“Oh, right, we need to get some breakfast first.” I headed for the door.

As we made our way to the bakery, I thought about what my classmates would say. They’d certainly be surprised to see me with my own sword, that was for sure. I couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces when I’d tell them the sword belonged to my dad, the brave paladin Azemar.

But it was _my_ sword now.

It was mine and mine alone.

I could carry on Dad’s legacy and wield his sword and do all kinds of heroic deeds. Except it was my sword, not Dad’s. Dad wasn’t here anymore; he’d been taken away eight years ago. It was just me and Father. And Jayde.

Dad’s sword was mine.

These thoughts filled my head as we approached the bakery. I felt so grown-up with my sword; maybe someday I could make the gemstones glow just like Dad did.

A loaf of bread entered my vision and I blinked at it.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Father asked.

“Ah, sorry.” I accepted the bread, feeling its warmth through my gloves. “Thank you, Father.”

He nodded before biting into his own loaf. As I began eating, enjoying the warmth of the bread in my mouth and the aroma of freshly baked bread around us, I couldn’t help but notice the melancholic look my father wore as he chewed. Curiosity gnawed at me. We ate breakfast at the same bakery nearly every morning, and each time Father started eating, he looked so terribly sad. By the time he finished, he’d have regained his composure, but the first few bites always drew sorrow from him.

Why?

I swallowed my mouthful of bread. I was grown-up now, with my sword at my side. I could ask Father about it, right?

“Father…”

“Yes?”

“Um… why do you always look so sad whenever we eat here in the morning?”

He lowered the hand that held his loaf. The sad look was still on his face. I kept eating, patiently waiting for an answer.

At last, he spoke.

“Early in the journey I went on with your dad and his friends, this town was one of the first stops made. At the time, Azemar was only accompanied by Thorstein and Liang; I followed at a distance, from the shadows, only helping if the situation became dire.

“Whilst they rested at the inn early one morning, I passed by the bakery. The bakers had just set out their first loaves of bread. It was a heavenly smell, and as I stood there, watching them work, I pictured myself with Azemar by my side as I bought a fresh loaf of bread and shared it with him. I wanted it to happen so badly… and at the time, I didn’t know why. I wanted to invite him to accompany me to the bakery, but my fear held my tongue and kept me away.

“Once I later realised I was in love with him, I knew that was why I wanted him to join me at the bakery. I never told him about it, but I still hoped once the quest was over, we could come back here, and I’d share that special moment with him at the Irongrove bakery.

“But he was taken away from me shortly after we defeated the black wizard, and I never saw him again. This is why we live here, Armin. This is why we have breakfast here, because whilst I can’t share that special moment with Azemar, I can at least share it with our son.”

I could picture everything Father had said. I understood how badly he’d desired to share such a special moment with the love of his life, and I could feel the pain he’d endured these past eight years, denied of even the tiniest bit of happiness with Dad.

Father had been in so much pain, so much heartache, for nearly a decade, because Dad, the paladin named Azemar, was taken away from him. Neither of them had done anything wrong; all they did was fall in love, and they were punished for it.

It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair.

I felt his arms around me, and I realised I couldn’t see him because my tears obscured my vision. I opened my mouth to say something, but only a sob came out.

“It’s okay to cry, my son,” was all he said.

I held onto Father as I sobbed, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Why did this have to happen to us?

Why couldn’t Dad come back?

I knew why, but I still wished with all my heart that we could see Dad again. I knew it would make Father unbelievably happy, and we could live out the rest of our lives the way they should be.

But it would never happen.

Father was doomed to be alone for the rest of his life.

I was doomed to never know the man who birthed me.


	4. Chapter 4

That afternoon, when school was out for the day, Father led me behind our house. The yard was small, and I had vague memories of going there on occasion to play whilst Father watched me. Most of the time, however, we stayed inside.

Now, we stood a few yards apart from each other in the backyard. I’d noticed earlier when Father had met me outside school that he carried his sword on his belt. I was surprised to see it but remembered his promise from that morning: he would show me how to use my sword.

I took a moment to study his sword as he drew it. It was a drastic contrast from my sword; his was long and thin, much like a fencing sword, whilst mine was shorter and broad. I realised the swords fit their owners perfectly: Father was tall and thin, whilst Dad – like me – was short and wide. Father had told me Dad bought his sword, and I knew Dad had chosen it intentionally.

“Draw your sword, Armin.”

I started in surprise. I’d been dwelling too long on the two swords, which already showed I had a lack of focus. Embarrassed, I pulled my sword from its sheath. It looked the same as it did when Father showed it to me three years ago, and I was certain he polished the sword regularly. There was some weight to it, but I knew I could grow accustomed to it after a time.

“Defend!”

Suddenly, Father was in front of me, raising his sword high. Panicking, I held my sword up in front of me, the tip pointed skyward, and squeezed my eyes shut. After several moments, I realised nothing had happened, and I opened my eyes to see Father giving me a disappointed look. His sword was pointed at the ground. I was confused but held my tongue.

He sighed. “I should’ve figured it wouldn’t be easy.”

“Huh?”

“When someone comes at you with a weapon, and they wish to harm you with it, what do you do?”

I blinked. “Run away?”

“Not with that sword, you don’t.” He pointed at the blade in my hands. “You have the means to defend yourself, and that’s what you should do if an enemy comes after you.”

“I have an enemy?” I tilted my head in confusion.

“Not now, no. But someday you might, and it’s good to know how to defend yourself.”

“Oh, like how you and Dad fought against the monsters between towns?”

“Yes, like that.”

“You guys raised your levels by fighting those monsters; do you think I could do the same?”

He shook his head.

“Why not?”

“They’re not there anymore.”

My eyes widened. I was sure the monsters were still there, lying in wait between each town to attack unsuspecting travellers. “B- But… where’d they go?”

He shrugged. “They’re all gone.”

“Gone?”

“Yes, gone. Now, pay attention.” He took a step backwards. “When defending yourself against an attack, you hold your sword up like this.” He lifted his sword and held it in front of him, using his left hand to keep the tip in place. The sword ran perpendicular to his body, creating a bizarre-looking lowercase “t”. “Keeping a firm grip on both ends ensures the sword won’t be knocked out of your hands, and the enemy’s blade won’t get through to you. You push up, like this,” he moved his arms forward and up, “to knock the enemy, and his blade, back. They usually stumble when this happens, which gives you time to fight back.”

At this, he spun away from me and slashed the air with his sword, striking down the imaginary enemy. He jabbed the sword forward, and I could easily picture the monster he fought squealing in pain before it died. I was impressed; how could Father have a weakness with using a sword, yet he was using one with such precision, such finesse? What were Dad’s sword skills like? If it were even better than what I’d just witnessed, I knew Dad must have been the best sword fighter in the whole entire world.

“Armin.”

I blinked again, realising Father was standing before me again. I mentally chastised myself for losing focus once more.

“You’re not going to get anywhere as a sword user if you keep getting distracted,” he pointed out. “I know you’re still young, but you need to focus on what I’m saying and doing. This could be a matter of life and death someday.”

I nodded. “I’ll pay attention, and sorry, Father.”

“I hope you will.” He held up his sword again. “I’m going to come at you slowly, and you try to defend yourself against me. Once you get the hang of it, I’ll go faster.”

“Okay.” I lifted my sword and held it like he’d demonstrated earlier.

* * *

We practised nearly every afternoon since that day; little by little, my sword skills improved. I’d had no issue with holding the sword, since it was made for my dad and my body was nearly identical in shape and size to his. It was a little difficult keeping a good grip on it at first, though, since I wore gloves over my tentacles. If I were bare-handed, I knew I could use the suction cups on my hands to get a better grip, but it would put me at a disadvantage. So I learnt to maintain a proper grip on my weapon with gloves on. After all, Father had to do the same with his sword, so I knew I could do it as well.

Roughly six months later, I made my first friend. He’d just enrolled in the school as a white mage, and I spotted him in the schoolyard during our lunch break. He sat alone at the base of a tree, looking lonely as he munched on a sandwich. He looked quite different from everyone I’d seen in town; he had light brown fur all over his body and a big bushy tail that curled on the ground beside him. He had big white teeth that protruded from his mouth, but it didn’t seem to bother him as he bit into his food. He wore the robes of a white mage, and I could tell by his size that he was a few years younger than me.

I couldn’t leave him there, all by himself. I carried my own lunch across the yard and sat beside him. He gave me a startled look, and I smiled as I said, “Hiya, you must be new here. What’s your name?”

He seemed to shrink into himself as he murmured, “B- Bolin.”

I thought the name was very strange, but I decided not to mention it. Instead, I said, “My name is Armin, and it’s nice to meet you.”

“Er… n- nice to meet you, too.”

“I haven’t seen you before, Bolin,” I continued. “Do you live here in Irongrove?”

“No, I- I live in Honeywind.”

“Honeywind?” I looked thoughtful. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

“It’s about a day’s walk away from here,” came the soft reply.

“Wow, really? Do you make that walk every day?”

He shook his head. “I go home every weekend.”

“Where do you live, then?”

He pointed to some nearby buildings. “I stay in the dorms there until my father picks me up.”

“Wow, what a coincidence!” I smiled again. “My father comes here to pick me up after school, too.”

“R- Really?” Bolin looked up at me. “Who’s your father?”

“He’s the red wizard, Avior.”

Bolin’s eyes widened. “You mean your father is the strongest wizard in the entire land?”

“Yep!” I nodded proudly.

“Wow…” Bolin’s expression was one of awe. “My mom told me about Avior and all the others who were on the quest to defeat the black wizard. I can’t believe it really happened, but it did, didn’t it?”

I nodded again. “We’ve got all six of ‘em to thank for the peace we have now. There’s no telling what would’ve happened if the black wizard continued ruling over us.”

“So if the red wizard Avior is your father, who’s your mom?”

I winced. I was still occasionally teased for not having a mother, though ever since Father explained what one was, I didn’t let the teasing bother me. I was extremely proud to have two of the most powerful people in the entire land as my parents, even if both were men. However, it was still a touchy subject I tried not to bring up if it could be helped.

“Um… well… I don’t have one,” I answered evasively.

“You don’t? How come? Did she pass away?”

“Erm… no…”

Bolin now looked at me with confusion, unsure what to say.

“W- Well, the truth is… I have a dad.”

“You mean Avior?”

“Avior is my father, but I have a dad, too.”

“Huh?”

“My father is Avior, and my dad is the paladin Azemar.”

An instant later, understanding lit up his features. “Ohh, now I remember! Mom told me they had a baby just before they fought the black wizard. So you’re their baby, huh?” He peered at me.

I felt uncomfortable. “I’m not a baby, Bolin, I’m eight years old. But yeah, I’m Avior and Azemar’s son they had before they fought the black wizard.”

He nodded. “I wondered what happened to the baby when Mom talked about it.”

“How does your mom know so much about it, anyway?”

Bolin smiled proudly as he replied, “My mom’s the strongest black belt in the entire land.”

I gasped. “Your mom’s Liang Yuhan?”

“Yep!” Bolin continued smiling. “I’m the first Yuhan to study spellcasting.”

I was shocked. When Father spoke of Liang, he didn’t seem to like her much, and she hadn’t seemed interested in having any children. I couldn’t help but wonder what got her to change her mind. Unfortunately, I’d never seen Liang – Father had said she’d stuck around a little after he took me to Irongrove, but she left after a few days when he told her he wasn’t interested in going on any more journeys – and I knew I wouldn’t be allowed to leave town to go to Honeywind and find out.

“What made you decide to study spellcasting?” I asked.

“I’ve always wanted to help my family,” Bolin replied. “Mom’s always off doing something, and Father’s more interested in my little sister. I wanna do something to make them notice me, and I knew I wanted to help. But not just any kinda help, I wanna help when it’s real important. One time, my sister scraped her elbow when she fell, and she started crying. I did the first thing I could think of. I held out my hands and said, ‘Cure!’ and her scrape went away, and she stopped crying. I ran to tell my parents right away.

“Father was surprised, but Mom wasn’t happy. Turns out she wanted me to become a black belt just like her, but she knew I couldn’t if I could heal people the way I did. So she had me enrolled here ‘cause there aren’t any spellcaster schools in Honeywind. Father comes here to get me at the end of the week and brings me back when the new week starts.”

I nodded thoughtfully. I remembered my own similar experience when I was five years old, when I’d lit the candle on my nightstand. “That’s great you’re becoming a white mage, Bolin. I bet you’ll make your parents real proud of you.”

“I sure hope so.” Bolin smiled again. “How come you’re a red mage?”

I explained it to him, and we found ourselves chatting through the entire lunch break. I’d never felt at ease around anyone aside from my father and Jayde, and it was relieving being able to talk to someone close to my age without them criticising me for having two fathers or for having a famous father.

I could finally be myself.

Armin, the red mage.

After school was out for the day, I was filled with excitement as I ran to meet with Father. I’d asked Bolin if he wanted to meet my father, but he politely declined, claiming he needed to study in his dorm. I didn’t think anything of it, but I knew I wanted to tell Father about my first friend.

Father stood just outside the entrance gate, waiting for me. Once I was close enough, he gave me an interested look. “You’re in a good mood,” he remarked.

“Yeah! I made a friend today!”

“You did?”

“Uh-huh, he’s a real nice mage who just started school recently.”

“Is that so?”

I nodded as we began walking towards home. “He’s a white mage, so he’s not in my class. Well, he’s also younger than me, so he can’t be in my class. But I met him during lunch, and we talked and everything.”

“What’s his name?”

I was waiting for that question. What a surprise Father would be in for once he heard the surname. “His name is Bolin Yuhan.”

Father stopped in his tracks. I continued on a few more steps before I realised he’d stopped, and I turned around. He wore a stunned expression. “Yu… Yuhan…?”

“Yep!” I smiled. “Bolin’s the first Yuhan to study spellcasting. He told me so himself.”

Father’s expression was now unreadable, which confused me. Wasn’t it a neat coincidence for the son of two of the famous party members who defeated the black wizard to meet the son of one of the other party members? What if the other party members had kids, too? I’d thought it would be fun for us all to meet if there were more of us. So why was Father so quiet about it?

“…Did he say anything about me?”

I raised an eyebrow. “No, but he was surprised when I told him you were my father. When he found out Azemar’s my dad, he realised who I was, and said his mom had told him about us. That’s when I found out his mom’s Liang Yuhan.”

He grimaced at this. Puzzled, I kept watching him. He then looked thoughtful and muttered, “I suppose her oldest _would_ be five by now…”

“Did you know Liang had a kid?”

“Yes, but I never saw him.”

I was impressed. Father seemed to know everything that went on in the world; perhaps it was because he was such a powerful wizard. Nevertheless, I knew we didn’t need to keep standing around. After all, there was still my sword practise, and Father needed to get back to his experiment.

“Can we go home now?” I asked. “I wanna do some more practising with my sword.”

“Hm? Oh, right, right.” Father shook his head to clear his mind and accompanied me back home.

* * *

At the end of the week, I tried again to invite Bolin – and his father – to meet my father, but again, I was politely turned down. It was strange how he seemed interested in befriending me, but when the subject of Father came up, Bolin shut down and refused to have anything to do with him. I wanted to ask Father about it, but since he’d never met Liang’s son, he likely wouldn’t know anything, either.

As for my sword skills, they gradually improved over time. I’d really wanted to practise on the monsters that lived outside Irongrove, but Father insisted they were truly gone, and only let me practise with him. As I got better at using my sword – _my_ sword! I could still hardly believe it – I began seeing weaknesses in the way Father used his own. I suppose it was because I’d inherited Dad’s sword-fighting skills, but I saw many openings whenever Father swung his sword, as well as a lot of hesitation and uncertainty. I realised he was right when he’d said he had a weakness with using swords, even the one Dad had bought for him. I didn’t want Father to know I’d picked up on his weaknesses, so I pretended to lose every time so he’d lecture me on what I did wrong and how I could improve for the next time.

Before I knew it, I was twelve years old and in my eighth year as a red mage. I’d been using my sword for four years and knew I could defeat Father in a swordfight but continued to let him win whenever we practised. Bolin had practically become my best friend; I visited him in the dorms from time to time, but he continued to refuse to meet my father. I was sure he had a good reason for it, so I didn’t try to pursue it.

Father’s research and experiment were proceeding at a good pace; spellcasters came to visit from across the land to speak with him and contribute however they could. I met many different types of people; as before, some didn’t pay much attention to me, some doted on me (yes, I still hated it when I was only called “Avior’s cute little boy”) and a number of them started talking to me and treating me like an actual spellcaster. I was sure it was because I’d been growing older and looking more grown-up, especially with my sword inherited from Dad.

The night before we received a particular visitor, Father was in a rather depressed mood all day. When I asked him what was wrong, he mumbled some excuse, but I could tell with the way he carried on that he was upset about Dad again. I realised he had every reason to be upset: Dad had been gone for twelve years. It seemed unreal, but it had been more than a decade since Father had seen Dad, and Father was more depressed than ever about it. I couldn’t blame him, of course; sometimes it really bothered me, too.

When I told Father I was going to bed, he was sitting in the main room and just waved a hand dismissively, not looking in my direction. I stayed where I was in the entryway, watching him. He kept his gaze on the fireplace, though there wasn’t a fire burning. I saw he had a distant look in his eyes; he was likely re-living the time he’d shared together with Dad, brief though it had been.

“Father…”

He didn’t respond.

I stepped closer to him. “Father.”

“…What.” His voice was flat.

“I know you’re thinking about Dad.”

His eyes snapped over to me. “And?”

I stood before him. “I know it’s upsetting you, too. It always does.”

He sighed and looked away. “I know, Armin. Believe me, I know. Every single day, I’m reminded that Azemar’s not here… and he never will be.” Tears brimmed in his eyes.

“I understand, Father, I—”

“How can you possibly know?” His tone was weary.

“Because it hurts me, too.”

He shook his head and closed his eyes, visibly fighting back his tears. “You don’t understand.”

“I know I don’t understand, Father. I can’t possibly understand how much it hurts you. But I know that it _does_ hurt you a lot. I’m hurting as well because I’ve never even _met_ Dad. It’s one thing if he died, or left us, or something like that, but he was taken away from us against his will. The person who gave birth to me, the person I resemble the most, and I’ve never laid eyes on him.” I paused, lowering my gaze. “So I’m hurting, too… it’s just a different kind of hurting.”

Father opened his eyes and let out his breath in another sigh. “I just don’t understand why we’re being punished like this. We joined forces with the people from another world, we made an unlikely team, but we worked together to defeat the black wizard and restore peace to this land… and now this. Azemar wanted nothing more than to stay here with me, but he…” He trailed off.

“Come, Father.” I reached out and took hold of his hands. I was surprised to see my hands weren’t much smaller than his; had I grown up that much, or had he grown that frail? He wasn’t old by any means, so I desperately hoped it was the former.

I gently pulled on his arms to get him to stand, then led him down the hall to his bedroom. He’d been able to sleep more often over the years, but there were still several times he’d lie awake in bed all night, or he’d throw himself into his research and pull an all-nighter since he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Tonight, however, I hoped he’d go to sleep; he needed it badly.

I guided him to sit on the edge of his bed. Darkness filled the room, so I flicked my hand at the candle on the nightstand, sending a tiny bit of flame to light it. Funny how seven years ago, I’d been filled with shock and wonder at what I now did with barely any thought.

“You should try to get some sleep tonight, Father,” I told him as I helped turn him around so he sat upright in bed. “Get some rest, and work on your research with a clear mind. Didn’t you say you’re having an important visitor tomorrow?”

He seemed to think over my question. “Visitor… I- I think so.”

“Then you need to be well-rested when they come here.”

He studied me for a moment. “Did I tell you about the fight against Skels?”

I’d heard the story of the entire journey more times than I could count, but I always enjoyed hearing about it. Sometimes Father would remember new things about it, but what I liked best was when he smiled as he moved his arms around to demonstrate parts of the story. Father seldom smiled and rarely got that animated, so I was glad whenever there was a chance for him to do both.

“Please tell it to me again, Father.” I sat beside him on the edge of the bed.

“We didn’t know how we were going to fight the dragoon,” he began, his gaze already sharpening. “I knew a little about dragoons, how they have a powerful dragon servant and they specialise in jumping attacks with their spear. Azemar wracked his mind trying to come up with a strategy…”


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, I awoke in my father’s bed. I hadn’t done that in a while, but it was quite late when Father had finished his story, and he requested I stay with him for the rest of the night. I didn’t know if the request came because I look so much like Dad, or if Father just needed some company, but I accepted nonetheless. It helped him feel better, which was good enough for me.

I realised I woke up because there was a knocking at the front door. Who in the world could be calling on us at this hour?

“Father, wake up.” I shook him before climbing out of bed.

“Huh?” He slowly opened his eyes. “Azemar?”

“There’s someone at the door, Father. Wake up, and I’ll take care of it.”

His eyes fully open, he sighed. I decided to leave him to answer the door; if it were someone important, I could always return to his room to wake him up again.

When I opened the door, I nearly did a double take. Standing on the other side of the door was an octopus with a remarkably striking resemblance to my father, all the way down to his red wizard’s robes and hat. The only difference I could see was that the visitor had a large, bushy unibrow.

He seemed unfazed by my staring, as he said, “Greetings. Might Avior live here?” I knew right away this man’s voice was different than Father’s, as it was of a higher pitch and a little more nasal.

I nodded. “Yes, er, please come in and I’ll go fetch him.”

“Thank you, young man.” As I stepped back, he entered the house and gazed about him. “Hm, a bit plain, but it’s better than the last time I saw him.”

I raised an eyebrow. Did this wizard know my father? Nevertheless, I knew I still needed to check on Father and make sure he was awake. I made my way down the hall to his bedroom, where Father sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Father, there’s a wizard here to see you,” I told him. “I think he’s someone you know.”

Father gave me a confused look but stood. “Very well, I’ll see him. A bit early for visitors, though.”

I agreed but kept quiet as I followed him into the main room. As soon as Father’s eyes fell on the visitor, he gasped. “Gezax?!”

The wizard turned in his direction and smiled. “Avior, it’s been far too long. How have you been?”

Father cleared his throat. “I’ve been… well. What brings you here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He gestured to my father. “Word’s spread far and wide about your experiment, and I had to come by to see for myself. I also thought it’d be a nice trip down memory lane to see how my protégé has been coming along. I heard you were part of the group who defeated the black wizard, yes?”

“Er, yes, I was.” Father rubbed at his arm.

Gezax raised an eyebrow… or rather, one part of his eyebrow. “Why do you not seem happy about it? You’ve saved the land from Zurnas’ tyranny, and apparently you’ve become a wizard, too. I don’t know about you, but I’d be ecstatic about accomplishing such a feat.”

“Er, well… Shall we have a seat first?” Father gestured to the couch. “It’ll take some explaining.”

“Of course.” Gezax settled near the end of the couch, whilst Father sat across from him in a chair. Uncertain of what to do, I sat nearby Father in my own chair. Gezax glanced at me. “Who’s the boy?”

Avior also stole a glance in my direction. “He’s my son.”

Gezax’ eyes widened. “S… Son?! _You_ have a son?”

“Yes.”

Gezax looked at me again, though this time, I knew he was studying me. I felt uncomfortable under his stare, and I averted my gaze. “I can see a little resemblance,” he finally remarked, “but there isn’t much. He must take after his mother?”

“Dad,” I replied, still not looking at him.

Gezax was speechless. He returned his attention to Father. “Okay, you’ll have to tell me everything, Avior, and don’t leave anything out. There are far too many questions that need to be answered here.”

* * *

The entire explanation took about an hour and a half. During some of that time, I was sent to get breakfast for everyone. Father told Gezax everything, from the time they’d parted ways in Father’s hometown, to his first meeting with Dad, to the battles with the black wizard’s servants, to his falling in love with Dad, to both their deaths in battle, to that special morning when they joined hands and let Father’s magic course through Dad as he reproduced, giving birth to me. He also spoke of the final battle against the black wizard, as well as their victory.

Gezax was mostly quiet throughout the explanation, though he asked a few questions here and there. When Father finished telling about the black wizard’s defeat, Gezax nodded in approval. “So where is Azemar?” he asked. “I’d like to meet the man who changed you so much, from the shy kid I met all those years ago to the powerful wizard who helped take down Zurnas and even fathered a child.”

Father lowered his gaze. “He’s gone.”

“Gone? You didn’t tell me he died in the battle.”

“No, he’s still alive, he’s just… not here.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Dad comes from a different world,” I explained. “He was brought here with his Viking friend against their wills. They wanted to go home, but the only way they knew how was to defeat the black wizard. So Dad gathered a group of fighters to help him and his friend take down the black wizard, and as Father just told you, they won. Dad and his friend got to go home.”

Gezax appeared to be at a loss. My voice wavered as I continued, “Dad didn’t want to leave when he fell in love with Father. He… He wanted to stay here with Father and together, they’d raise me.” I blinked back tears. “But the great king took Dad away; he hasn’t been here in twelve years… and I’ve never seen him.”

“It’s true,” Father added. “Azemar and his friend, Thorstein, were returned to their world after we defeated the black wizard. We don’t have the means to travel between worlds to visit them, and although their home world is completely different from this one, apparently they don’t have the means, either. It’s been twelve long years since I last saw Azemar.”

Gezax nodded slowly. “That’s why you’re developing the means to travel through time.”

“Yes,” Father murmured. “We cannot travel to other worlds, but I may be able to travel to the past to see Azemar one more time.”

Gezax took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I can’t say I like the idea of you using something so revolutionary for something so selfish, but I know I won’t be able to stop you. I’d also like to see if the experiment is a success, since you and I both know it’ll change everything we’ve ever known. The king himself will seek you out to make use of it.”

“The king’s already been here,” Father replied, “though it was for another matter entirely.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, he came here to meet Azemar and invite him to become captain of his personal guard.”

Gezax whistled appreciatively. “That’s quite an honour; it’s a shame Azemar wasn’t here to take that position.”

“I know he would’ve gladly taken it, too.”

“By the way,” Gezax glanced at me again, “if you’re able to make the experiment a success, will you take your son with you?”

“Of course not.”

“What?!” I turned to him in surprise. “But Father—”

He held up a hand. “It’s too dangerous, Armin. I’m the strongest spellcaster in the land, and it’ll be extremely dangerous for _me_ to go alone. I’m not putting you in that kind of danger.”

“But… But…” I sputtered.

Father shook his head. “If the experiment is a success when I make the test run, you can try it yourself sometime later, perhaps when you’re older.”

“When will that be?” I demanded.

Father shrugged. “I don’t even know when I’ll be ready for a test run, maybe in a few more years. You can go sometime after that, say, in four or five years.”

I did some quick calculations. If Father were ready for a test run in three years, I’d be fifteen. Another five years after that would put me at twenty years old.

I knew I wasn’t going to wait that long.

“Why do I have to wait?” I asked. “Just because I’m not an adult yet?”

Father shrugged. “I don’t want to put you into any unnecessary danger, Armin. I—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” I jumped to my feet. “You probably had all this planned from the start, didn’t you? You were never going to let me go to the past to meet Dad!” Not waiting for an answer, I ran to the door, threw it open and dashed outside.

I ran and ran, not caring where I was going. Tears blurred my vision and I tried to blink them away. I felt sick, betrayed. I thought for sure Father would let me accompany him to the past; that way, he could see Dad again and I’d be able to meet him for the first time. But I couldn’t go…? Why?

Before I knew it, I stood outside the town gates. I was out of Irongrove for the first time in my life.

I was scared.

I remembered I had my sword at my side, and I drew it. Father betrayed me with not letting me go to the past, so it stood to reason he’d lied about the monsters lying in wait between towns. But I’d been practising using my sword the past four years, I could handle it.

I stared into the distance, past the grassy fields that spread before me.

Several minutes dragged by.

I looked around. Maybe the monsters were a little further away from the gates. Yeah, that had to be it.

I walked away from Irongrove, further into the grass, sword at the ready.

Nothing.

I lowered my sword. A light breeze whispered around me and rustled the grass, but there were no signs of any monsters.

Father was right.

“Darn it!” I yelled, shoving the tip of my sword into the ground. “Where are the monsters?!”

Silence.

I yelled again, letting my frustrations out through my voice. I dropped to my knees and stared at the grass as the emerald blades danced in the breeze.

“Why?!” I slammed my fist into the ground, ignoring the pain that instantly shot up my arm. “Why? Why, why, why?!” At each “why”, I pounded my fist against the ground, feeling my hand going numb.

Tears blurred my vision again, but this time, I let them flow. The drops pattered on the grass and I didn’t care. Everything hurt and nothing mattered. I sobbed, letting my despair overcome me.

Father found me there, on my hands and knees in the grass, a few minutes later. He knelt by my side and placed a gentle hand on my back.

“Armin,” he said softly.

“Wh- Wh- Why?” I stammered through the tears.

He didn’t answer right away; instead, he ran his hand across my back, lightly rubbing it. “It doesn’t matter what I’m doing this experiment for,” he replied after a few moments. “Time travel is extremely dangerous; no one’s ever attempted it before. I don’t want to put you through it because you’re my precious son. You’re Azemar’s gift to me, the symbol of our love for each other and the hope we hold for the future. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I love you.”

“B- But I w- wanna meet D- Dad,” I protested.

“I know you do, Armin. But I don’t want to risk anything going wrong with the experiment and losing you. It already hurts so much not having Azemar with me, but I can’t imagine losing you, too. That’s why I’m going first. If the experiment is a success, I’ll let you go to the past too, I promise. I’d love for you to meet Azemar and see what kind of person he is… and you will. Just not right away.”

I sniffled, knowing Father’s words made sense. He was the most powerful spellcaster in the land; if anything went wrong with the experiment, he was best suited to figure out what was wrong and how to fix it. I was just a red mage, still attending school. If something went wrong when I went to the past, I wouldn’t know what to do. I could be trapped between times, or I could be stuck in the past.

Much as I hated to admit it, Father was right: sending me into the past was just too dangerous and risky.

“O- Okay,” I replied, moving back so I was on my knees. I swiped the back of my hand across my nose.

Father wrapped his arms around me and held me close. “I love you so much, Armin.”

I returned the embrace. “I love you too, Father.”

When we returned home, Gezax was still there, patiently waiting for us. We both apologised for the inconvenience. I knew I felt silly causing a scene in front of a guest.

The wizard waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it; I know what kids are like.”

“You do?” Father gave him a surprised look as he and I sat.

“Sure, I’ve met plenty of people over the years, and many adults had children. I can also understand Armin’s frustrations, considering he’s never met his other parent.” He paused, studying me again. “However, I will admit I’ve not encountered something like this before.”

“What do you mean?” Father asked.

“I mean, aside from an unusual union between a red wizard and a paladin, the fact remains you both are men. Not only that, but one of you were able to give birth, which shouldn’t be possible.”

“It’s possible when the other person is a sponge,” Father pointed out. “Azemar told me he can reproduce anytime he wants by himself since he reached adulthood.” He nodded at me. “I’m certain Armin can do the same when he’s a little older.”

“That’s what makes it odd, too,” Gezax responded. “There aren’t any sponges in this land. I’ve travelled to every town, large and small, and can tell you there are no sponges at all. Azemar seems to be the first one, and Armin is now the second.”

“What about snails?”

“Come again?” Gezax turned his attention to me.

“What about snails?” I repeated. “Jayde comes from a different land, where there are a lot of snails. Are there any others here?”

“No, there aren’t.” Gezax shook his head. “There aren’t any beastmasters here, either. I’m sure Jayde knew that when he came here.”

“Meow.” Jayde spoke up as he slithered into the room.

“You did know?” I gave him an incredulous look.

“Meow, meow.” He slowly headed in my direction as he spoke. “Meow meow, meow. Meow.”

“I didn’t know that,” I replied. “I’m sorry for not asking sooner.”

“Meow, meow.”

“You can understand him?” Gezax gave me a curious look.

“Yeah, I understand everything Jayde tells me. He’s a good storyteller.”

“I can understand some of it,” Father added, “though not as much as Armin.”

“Interesting.” Gezax stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“I think I inherited this ability from Dad,” I explained, leaning over to pet Jayde. The snail began purring softly. “I’m glad I can understand him, regardless of how it’s possible.”

“That’s true,” Gezax conceded. “I’m sure Jayde could give you all kinds of insight into his homeland, too.”

“Probably,” I agreed.

“Don’t you have school today?” Father asked me.

“No, but I was planning to go to Bolin’s dorm and help him study.”

“Why don’t you go on ahead? You can come back for lunch.”

“Okay.” I stood. “It was nice meeting you, Mr Gezax.”

He nodded. "It was nice meeting you, too, Armin. But listen." His expression turned serious. “Your father is a great man and a great wizard, and you’ll learn a lot from him. Don’t be afraid to ask questions and listen when he speaks. You’ll be a better spellcaster if you do so.”

“I will.”

* * *

He waited until the door closed before letting out his breath. “I’m really sorry for the way he acted earlier, Gezax.”

The wizard shook his head. “Like I said before, don’t worry about it. Kids can be a handful, though I’ll admit I’m quite surprised to see _you_ with one.”

“I’m a bit surprised, myself.” Avior gazed at the closed door.

“What made you decide to have a child, anyway?”

“Er, well… Azemar convinced me.”

“Really?”

“Well, it was more like, we convinced each other. We were both certain Azemar would be returned to his world once we defeated the black wizard, and we wanted to have something to remember each other by, if it came to that. The problem was that Azemar would be the one to leave, so the odds of him being able to take something tangible with him were just about non-existent. So we decided if just one of us could have something, it would be me. Azemar knew the best way to symbolise our love in a sort of keepsake, if you will, would be to have a baby.

“He told me about being able to reproduce by himself but said the baby would look identical to him. We wanted our child to look like both of us, so I suggested I use my magic to make changes to the baby’s appearance. It would be tricky, since I’d be doing it whilst Azemar reproduced, but as you can see, it was a success. Armin—”

“Wait, wait.” Gezax held up a hand. “You mean to tell me you used your magic _inside_ another person?”

Avior nodded. “I honestly wasn’t sure if it’d work. Azemar told me he normally reproduces quickly, so he had to slow it down so I could use my magic on him. I had to be extremely careful; as you know, paladins have a bit of white magic within them. I had to make sure my magic didn’t interfere with his, and I had to ensure my magic wouldn’t run wild within Azemar. He was already in a weakened state with slowing down his reproduction, so I had to be even more cautious.”

“I see.” Gezax grew thoughtful. “How long did the entire process take?”

“I’m not sure; I was focused more on trying not to hurt Azemar whilst changing the baby’s appearance during its birth. I’d say… about thirty minutes.”

“That’s quite a long time for Azemar to be reproducing, especially if he normally does it quickly.”

“He was greatly weakened afterwards,” Avior agreed. “It was a tremendous strain on both of us, but I’m glad we did it.”

“I can tell you really love your son, too,” Gezax remarked. “You should document everything that happened and publish it; I’m sure other spellcasters would love to try it whenever their lovers give birth.”

Avior shook his head. “That was an intimate thing between me and Azemar; it’s not meant to become public knowledge. Besides, most others have a gestation period before they give birth. I don’t think it’ll work the same since Azemar didn’t have that.”

Gezax shrugged. “I still think you should make it public knowledge, even if no one else can replicate it. What about your time travel experiment? Will you publish your findings on that?”

“Perhaps. It mostly comes down to whether it will work. As long as I stay on schedule, I’ll be done in just a few years.”

“Because of Azemar.”

Avior nodded, a pained look on his face. “I just want to see him one more time, Gezax. That’s all I want, just one more moment with him.”

The red wizard sighed. “You do realise there’s a huge flaw in your plan, right?”

“Wh- What?”

“You, the strongest red wizard… no, the strongest spellcaster in this entire land, travelling to the past, when Azemar was here. You know he wasn’t alone.”

“Right, he had the rest of the party with him.”

“Including you.”

Avior blinked. “M… Me…”

“Yes, you’d be travelling to the past, where _you_ exist. I don’t know exactly when you’ll be going, but I imagine it’d be before you take on Zurnas. You won’t be at the apex of your power, but you’ll still be quite strong. And the you of the present will be co-existing with the you of fifteen years ago, shortly before reaching that apex.”

Avior covered his mouth with a hand. He knew exactly what Gezax was getting at. Two extremely powerful red wizards who were the same person, existing at the exact same time. Even if he kept his distance, the enormity of power coming from the same person, but twofold…

The results would be catastrophic.

Tears filled his eyes as he lowered his hand and murmured, “So that’s it. I’ll never be able to see Azemar again, all because of my power.”

“Your power you’re utilising for the greater good,” Gezax pointed out. “Think of what you’ll be doing for our society if you make time travel possible. You won’t be able to go to the time you want, but you can either choose a different time or send someone else.”

“I don’t care about that, Gezax.” Tears streamed down Avior’s face. “I just want to see Azemar. I can’t go to his world, and he can’t return here, so I thought I’d see him again if I went into the past. I—”

“But you _can’t_ go into the past.”

“H- Huh?”

“You can’t go into the past,” Gezax slowly repeated. “Time travel’s not possible.”

“But—”

“ _But_ you’re making it happen. Don’t you see, Avior? If you can accomplish time travel, you might be able to accomplish inter-world travel. Think of all the possibilities, just because _you_ made the impossible possible.”

Avior wiped away his tears. “B- But…”

“If you can do both, you can see Azemar whenever _and_ wherever you want. You’ll turn entire _worlds_ on their heads with your findings. Isn’t it an incredible thought?”

“It’ll take me fifteen years to accomplish time travel,” Avior said softly. “How much longer would it take to discover the means to travel between worlds? What if… What if…”

“Avior, listen.” Gezax’ expression was serious. “I know you want to see Azemar. And you’re doing an incredible thing with time travel just so you can see him again. But _you_ can’t go. Regardless, I still want to help you with your experiment. But you must promise me two—no, three things.”

“What’s that?”

“One, finish the experiment. Either visit a different time or send someone else. Two, publish your findings. I know you’re documenting everything, and if it’s a success, I want to see a book about it. Three, once you finish the first two, promise me you’ll begin research into travelling between worlds. Even if you can’t accomplish it in your lifetime, you’ll have notes that someone else – probably your son – will be able to pick up and continue where you left off. Do we have a deal?”

Avior grew thoughtful, weighing his options. After a few moments, he replied, “It’s a deal.”

“Good.” Gezax nodded. “I’ll give you most of my magic, but I’ll have a charm on it. If you break our promise, the magic will dissolve, and your time travel experiment will crumble.”

Avior gaped at his former mentor.

“What, you thought you were the only one who could use magic outside of battle?” Gezax scoffed. “Avior, I’m surprised at you. Many wizards can use magic outside the battlefield, though most choose not to do so. I’ve learnt to protect myself and my magic. If Zurnas were allowed to rule much longer than he had, who knows what he would’ve done to all the wizards in this land? Therefore, I ensured my magic was under the best kind of protection so he wouldn’t be able to take it away from me. Since we no longer have to worry about him, I can protect my magic however I wish. And I’m protecting it from a potential broken promise.”

Avior was silent for a moment. “I… I understand, Gezax. I promise to do as you say, as I know your magic is a highly valuable thing, as are you. I know you mean what you say, and I never take your words lightly.”

“Good.” Gezax nodded in approval. “I wish you luck with your experiment.”


	6. Chapter 6

I was given great news on my fifteenth birthday: I was chosen to go to the past and see Dad.

When Father told me, my eyes nearly popped out of my head, they were that huge. “Are… Are you sure, Father?” I asked, hardly daring to believe it. We were seated at the dining table, where we’d finished eating lunch.

“I’m quite sure,” he replied. “I’m nearly done with the preparations, and when they’re complete, you’ll be conducting the first test. You’ll travel fifteen years into the past, when Azemar gathered his friends together and defeated the black wizard.”

I was so happy to hear this, I almost started crying on the spot. But I was fifteen now, and practically an adult. Adults didn’t cry.

However, a thought struck me. “What made you change your mind, Father?”

“Hm?”

“A few years ago, you told me I couldn’t go until after you made the test run yourself. Why am I going instead?”

“W- Well, I’d thought it over and realised you really were the better choice. I need to stay here and make sure everything goes well on this end, too.”

I hiked an eyebrow. I was sure Father was keeping something from me, but I couldn’t question my good fortune. I was going to the past to meet Dad.

“I… I’m going to meet Dad,” I said softly, still in disbelief.

Father nodded. “Yes, you’ll meet all his friends, and you’ll see me when I was younger as well. You might get to see me when I was a mage, too.”

My vision blurred, and I blinked a few times to clear it. “I’m meeting Dad,” I repeated.

I heard a patient sigh from Father. “Yes, Armin.”

My blinking wasn’t clearing my vision, and I understood why when I felt tears slipping down my cheeks. “Dad…” I murmured.

A chair shifted and footsteps circled around the table. I felt Father’s arms around me before he said, “Yes, you’ll finally get to meet the man who gave birth to you, who means more to me than life itself. You’ll be meeting the strongest paladin in the land: Azemar.”

I tried to speak but ended up sobbing. Father held me close as I cried.

It was practically a miracle.

After fifteen long years without ever knowing my other parent, I was finally going to meet him.

I would be meeting Azemar the paladin.

Dad.

My good mood surrounding the ordeal quickly vanished two weeks later. We had several wizards visiting as the final preparations were being made for the experiment. I usually stayed in my room, as I had a lot of studying to do for school. However, one evening, I left my room to get some water.

Father was in the main room with a black wizard, one who had visited before. They were talking about the experiment as I entered the kitchen and picked up a glass.

“So you’re not going to the past?” the black wizard asked.

“Much as I’d love to, I can’t,” Father replied.

“Why not?”

“The same power being used to conduct this experiment is the one thing hindering me from going to the past. If I went to any point of time in the past where I already exist, especially as a wizard, it would be catastrophic. It’s a shame since I’d wanted to travel fifteen years into the past.”

“Why can’t you go to some other point of time?”

A sigh. “I’m concerned about going to _any_ point of time with my power, honestly. It’d be better if someone who doesn’t have as much magic as me could go.”

“Do you have someone in mind?”

“I’ve tried asking other wizards, but they’re either not interested, or they’re worried about their magic co-existing with their past selves as well.” A pause. “But then I remembered Armin, my son, had expressed an interest in going to the past. He’s still studying as a mage. He wasn’t alive just over fifteen years ago, so he could go in my place.”

“Aha, send the mage son of the red wizard because it won’t be as dangerous.”

“Exactly.”

I couldn’t hear anything else as rage filled my entire being. I must have set down my glass at some point, but I don’t recall when or where. All I remember was grabbing my sword from my room and sneaking out the back door.

All was quiet outside, but I paid no heed to anything as I made my way through the streets and outside town. As before, there were no monsters lying in wait, which added to my anger. I kept walking away from the town gates, seething with rage.

After several minutes, I found a small grouping of trees, and I had my sword out in a flash. I swung the blade as hard and fast as I could, leaving a huge gash in the trunk of the closest tree. Again and again I swung, the sword making large slashes in the tree’s trunk. I jammed the end of the weapon into the ground after nearly felling the tree.

I took a deep breath, tipped my head back, and screamed as loudly as I could, letting all my anger and frustration out with the noise.

I was furious. How could Father think so little of me? He was letting me go to the past just because I was weak? But I wasn’t weak; I’d been studying and practising my magic ever since I’d first attended magic school ten years ago and was nearly at the top of my class. I practised using my sword every afternoon when school was out, and I knew I could easily defeat Father if we had an actual match.

However…

My gaze slid over to the sword, which was embedded into the ground. Three gemstones were set into the hilt – one azure, one maroon, one turquoise.

All dark.

I recalled what Father had told me about Dad getting all three stones to glow, and how the sword changed its appearance when Dad became a paladin. It reverted to its original form when Dad was taken away.

Even now, it remained in its original form.

I fell to my knees.

Despite all the hard work I’d put into my magic, despite the daily practises, the sword remained unchanged since the day Dad was taken away from us, fifteen years ago.

I really was weak.

“No… no.”

I shook my head, fighting back the tears once again.

“I’m not weak,” I muttered. “I’m not weak.”

My gaze fell on the sword’s hilt, where the three gems seemed to mock me with their darkness.

“I’m not weak!” I yelled.

Silence.

“I’m not weak,” I murmured, feeling my tears spilling down my face. “I- I’m not… weak…”

* * *

I know it’s wrong, but I’m going to do it anyway.

I’ll show Father I’m not weak, and I’m not to be underestimated.

That’s right, I’m going to hurt him.

But not in the physical sense, oh no. That would be too easy, too obvious.

You see…

I’m going to hurt him in the past.

It won’t be anything grand, and it won’t be apparent that I was the one who did it. But since I’m going to go into my father’s past, I can do something to him to alter things in the present, just slightly, and he’d never know it was me who did it. When I come back to the present, I’ll see how he’s different, then reveal my little trick. He won’t be able to do a thing to change it, either, since he’s unable to go to the past.

It'll be beautiful, just you wait and see.

Hm? What is the plan to hurt him in the past?

Er, well… I haven’t quite decided on that just yet. I’m sure I’ll think of something when the time comes, don’t you worry.

Anyway, the big day finally came. Ordinarily, I would’ve been ecstatic that the experiment was complete, and I was designated as the all-important test subject. Sure, I was still happy I’d finally be able to meet Dad, but I was overcome with the desire for revenge. I was still angry at Father for not respecting his own son, not caring about me or anything I’d done up till this point.

I put on a happy face, of course; it’s easy to fool Father into believing I was excited about going to the past. I was happy, but for a different reason.

When he was ready, Father handed me a small pendant. “This is the device that will return you to the present,” he instructed. “Press this button, and you’ll be sent back here, roughly ten minutes after you’ve left. You won’t be able to bring anything back with you, but as soon as you return, please tell me everything. I want to document everything that happens, especially if I can successfully transport you into the past.”

“So how will I go into the past?” I asked.

“Stand over here, on this plate.” Father pointed to a steel square on the floor in the main room. As I obeyed, he removed his gloves and pulled on a pair of black, elbow-length gloves. They looked nearly identical to mine, except his were made of a shinier material and had wires loosely wrapped around them.

“I’ve charged these gloves with all the magic that’s been given to me over the last fifteen years,” he explained. “I’m going to send my own magic through them and towards you and the plate. If this works, the magic infused in the plate, combined with these gloves, my magic and your own magic, will work together to transport you fifteen years into the past, before you were born. I request you return after the black wizard is defeated, before the party leaves the castle and meets the great king. Don’t tell anyone too much about what happens afterwards, as we don’t want to alter the future. Come to think of it, don’t tell them about the outcome of the battles against any of the black wizard’s servants, either. Do you have any questions?”

I shook my head. “No, Father. I’m ready whenever you are.”

He held up his hands for a moment, then lowered them and gazed at me for several long moments. “Armin…”

“Yes, Father?”

“Please be careful in the past, and please come back to me safely. I love you dearly and would hate to see anything bad happen to you. Also… please tell Azemar that I miss him every day and that I still love him.”

I nodded. “I’ll be sure to tell him.”

He kept his gaze on me for several moments longer, then raised his arms, his hands pointed at me. “If this doesn’t work, I hope you can forgive me, Armin.”

I opened my mouth to reply, then closed it. Worry began to creep over me. What if the experiment failed? What would happen to me?

The last thing I saw was a deep crimson energy shooting from Father’s outstretched hands and hitting me directly in the chest. Light burst before my eyes and I tried to scream, but no sound came out. It felt as though I was falling, falling… how long would it take to hit the floor?

Then everything cleared.

I blinked several times and looked around.

I was in the centre of a town I’d never seen before. This place was huge, with tall grey buildings all around, and countless people bustling about. I felt weakened, out of breath, but I made my way to the nearest building and gazed at the sign hanging above the entryway.

I gasped.

I was in Lastfield.

I heard murmurs from passer-by as they mentioned the black wizard.

And I knew Father’s experiment was a success.

I was in the past.

* * *

“That’s quite a fascinating story,” he remarked. “I don’t believe I’ve heard anything about a red wizard named Avior, so you must be in the past.”

Armin nodded. “I was born here in Lastfield, but I don’t have any memory of the place. I’m completely lost.”

“Well, then, allow me to help you.” He smiled as he pulled out a map and unfolded it. “We’re right here, in Lastfield.” He pointed to the north-eastern coast of the continent. “You live all the way down here in Irogrove.” He drew a finger down the map, stopping at the southern region. “Your parents and their friends could be anywhere between there and here.”

Armin gazed at the map, then pointed to various towns. “I know they stopped at these places to either rest or fight one of the black wizard’s servants, but I don’t know exactly how far back I’ve gone, so there’s no telling where they could be.”

“Then why don’t you follow their route in reverse?”

“Huh?”

“You know the route they took to get here, right? Follow it in reverse – start by going to Whiteland from here – and you’re bound to run into them at some point.”

“But I’m not strong enough to fight the monsters in between the towns, how am I going to survive?”

“That’s easy.” He grinned as he folded up the map. “I’ll give you some money, items and equipment, and you take care of the rest.”

“Really?” Armin was surprised. “Gee, mister, you’re being awfully nice to me, and we just met.”

“It’s no trouble. After all, I want to do my part to help your parents defeat the black wizard, too.” He looked thoughtful. “Say… why don’t you bring them all here? I’d love to meet them.”

“Sure!” Armin smiled. “I’m sure they’d love to meet you as well.”

“Excellent, heh heh heh…”

* * *

_Ten months later_

I moved as fast as I could throughout the streets of Ravenwood. I’d been here for a couple of days when I heard whispers amongst the townsfolk about a group of strangers who’d defeated Tren, the town’s ruler.

My heart pounded in my chest. It had to be them, there was no question about it.

I’d been stuck in the past for almost a year, trying my hardest to find my parents and their friends. I hadn’t made much progress, and it was very frustrating that I hadn’t found them in Lastfield, Whiteland or Stormwick.

I wanted to return home, to my own time, but I couldn’t leave without seeing Dad. That was the whole point of this experiment. That was the sole reason why I stayed here, fifteen years in the past, because I was desperate to meet him. It would be worth the manipulation from that strange wizard in Lastfield, all the months of travelling alone, fearing for my very life day after day, all so I could see him.

I began to understand how Father had felt all these years.

I rounded a corner and stopped dead in my tracks.

There they were.

A tall red wizard walked down the street with a short knight by his side. I could only see him from the back, but the knight’s body had a shape identical to mine and was yellow in colour. He wore a silver helmet with a large blue plume sticking out of the top, and had silver armour, gloves and boots. A sword identical to mine hung from his armour.

My breath caught in my throat as tears blurred my vision. Finally, at long, long last, I saw the man who my father loved dearly, who gave birth to me almost sixteen years ago. The courageous knight who would soon become a paladin and save our land from the black wizard’s tyranny.

I wiped away my tears. It wouldn’t do for me to show up a crying mess; what kind of first impression would that be? I took a few deep breaths, keeping the knight and wizard in sight. Thankfully, they were too absorbed in conversation to notice my following them.

The red wizard froze, holding out a hand and stopping the knight. I also stopped. They probably knew I was there. After a moment, the wizard lowered his hand and they resumed walking. I continued as well, approaching them closer, closer, clos—

The wizard stopped suddenly, and I found myself running into his backside. I stumbled backwards, but a firm hand gripped my arm.

Two sets of eyes stared at me in surprise, and that’s when I finally saw him.

Azemar.

Dad.

* * *

I returned my sword to its sheath as I finished explaining how I obtained it. Dad turned his gaze to Father – my Father in the past, that is – and said, “A… Avior… he’s really…”

Father nodded, dumbfounded. “He’s our… son.”

I nodded as well. “That I am. I’m glad the time travel experiment was a success, since I—”

My words were cut off when Dad wrapped his arms around me. “I can’t believe it,” he murmured, “but you really… really are my son.”

I wound my arms around him, trying my hardest not to cry. He wasn’t much bigger than me, but I knew with every fibre of my being that I was finally hugging my dad for the first time in my life… and it was a wonderful feeling.

I knew this was why Father had worked so hard for fifteen years, why he cried regularly and sometimes had trouble going to sleep at night. This was why I cried on occasion as well, why I’d wanted to go to the past. Why I endured everything these past ten months, all for this moment.

“Yes, Dad,” I said softly, “I am your son.”


End file.
